Four boys are playing outside my home, one of which I produced.
I listen to their giggling, the sounds of war, of tag, of conflict and compromise. Running feet and balls slamming into the ground often catch my attention for a minute. They yell each other's name often and a current trend is to yell "T" which apparently is the 2008 way to say "Time out."
The other day Noah injured his hand on a rock. This is what I heard.
Little boys yelling and chasing each other.
Noah screaming and crying.
Little feet running.
My door bell ringing.
He was fine after he washed it. It is amazing how a little water and a break from the hazards of Star Wars can cure Luke Skywalker in minutes.
I sit and listen to the sounds and hope the neighbors, (not all of them have little boys) can understand boy play is not a quiet art. I sit and listen and I thank God He gave me a little boy with all his noises - most of them imitations of cars, planes, gunfire and bodily functions.
But there is one noise that I don't like. It gets me off my computer and out of my chair faster than any other sound. SILENCE.
Four boys being silent. Uh-oh. Someone's up to no good.